Time After Time
by Cheyenne32
Summary: Five Times Castle Dreams He Kisses Beckett and the One He Actually Does.


**Disclaimed. **

**Summary: **Five Times Castle Dreams He Kisses Beckett and the One He Actually Does.

**Author's Note: **My block continues with my stories… And so, here is another one-shot to tide my readers over. I hope you enjoy.

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><p><strong>Time After Time:<br>**Cheyenne32

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><p>I.<p>

She lies before him, silent and still. He would doubt that she was still living if it wasn't for the rhythmic beating of the machines by her bedside and the oxygen mask that would fog frequently. He took a cautious step towards her. She looked fragile, too fragile for Katherine Beckett to look. He knew that he should not be here, not just in the fact that the visitor's hours were over, but also in the knowledge that she would rather be dead than want him to see her in such a state. He shuddered over the word dead, remembering how she had died in his arms twice, only then to be revived by Lanie and later the paramedics in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

But she was still here, thankfully. The doctors had told tale of her fierceness to the waiting room full of people who were just there because of her, not that he needed to have been told. She was fierce and strong, and he reminded himself of how looks could be all too deceiving because that fragile looking woman on the bed was not fragile in the least. He took another step towards her slowly, quietly, but she wouldn't awake anyway. The doctors had put her in a drug-induced coma that they would not take her from until she was fully stable, which, currently, she was not.

And which was a reason why he should not be here.

The staff only allowed family in the ICU, where Kate was being kept, and since he was neither husband nor fiancée, he was not allowed to see her. Even Esposito and Ryan and Lanie, who had flashed badges and shared tales of working with the detective, had not been allowed in. Josh, Kate's boyfriend, had only been allowed in because he was the top cardiac surgeons at the hospital and very well-respected. And Castle had to beg, quite literally, after hours to be allowed in to see her by a nurse that had a not-so-secret crush on him.

He spared a glance at the clock on the far wall. He needed to get home, to comfort and be there for Alexis and Martha, who had witnessed Kate's shooting, but surely, they would understand if he was late. He didn't want her to be quite so alone. Carefully, he reached out his hand and brushed his fingers against the back of her hand. He breathed. She was still there, with him. Alive. The ticking of the clock and the beeping of the machine made up the noise in the room, assisted a bit by the muffled noises of New York City at night outside of the hospital walls. He caressed her face, knowing that it would be impossible for him to do this is she was awake. Then, he leans forward and presses his lips to her head.

She was going to be fine.

He knew it.

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><p>II.<p>

"Come on, Beckett!" He shouts, spinning in the down pour.

Beckett stands only a few feet from him with an angry expression on her face. The expression was a little less frightening as she was soaked in rainwater from head to toe. He didn't even bother to attempt to suppress his grin as her usually pristine appearance was now heavily disheveled. "Castle, we have a job to do!"

"We only have to go back to the precinct and catch up on _boring _paperwork. We caught the girl's killer!" He exclaimed loudly. "Let's celebrate!" He twirled again.

"This isn't my idea of a celebration," the detective frowned at him through the rain.

"Come on, Detective. Let your hair down for once! Have some fun!" He grinned at her as she shifted from side-to-side, knowing that he was about to win. He took a few steps towards her and cautiously grabbed her hand with his and when he didn't get slapped or shot, he spun her around with him. "Isn't it fun?"

She smiled at him. And he laughed. And then, she pushed him back and he stumbled, not falling, instead regaining his balance just as a large truck came barreling by him and splashed a large puddle on him.

Then, she laughed and twirled.

He shrugged his shoulders, shaking of some of the water like a wet dog and ran to join her. He had just grasped her hand within his when he slipped in a puddle, taking her down to the hard sidewalk with him. He, although, broke her fall. He smiled seductively at her, tugging her closer when she tried to get up. She lost her balance and fell completely on top of him, their lips accidentally brushing.

And the smile faded from her face and she stumbled to her feet and rushed in the direction of her car.

And he let her go.

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><p>III.<p>

She hiccups. Or he does. He isn't sure. They should've stopped drinking hours ago when they left the club, but rather, they just returned to her place. It wasn't as if they could've gone to his place, what with all the pesky mothers and beyond their age daughters and whatnot. And strangely, she does have quite the large liquor cabinet in her new apartment. It's about the only cupboard that's supplied in the entire kitchen. He knew about the roughness of being a cop, although he never was one, and how it deserved mind-numbing alcohol more than not, but an unclear memory in the back of his mind regales him with strange tales of how her father was an alcoholic was upon a time. And it makes him wonder why she keeps around alcohol knowing that all too well. But his brain is blurred with the liquor running through his brain and he chooses not to over think, as he was prone to doing, that topic, at least for the moment.

She babbles on about the unfairness of the world and he nods, seeing pain and suffering in her eyes, despite the amount of alcohol that they consumed. He feels helpless, wishing more than anything that he could take the pain and hurt from her and grimaces with the knowledge that he cannot. All he can do is sit here with her, wishing that she would trust him to take at least half the pain and burden from her. But she will never allow him to do such a thing. She was too stubborn and he frowns again with the knowledge that if she wasn't who she was, quite as stubborn, he wouldn't love her as much as he did. Because everything she did, she was made him love her all the more.

"Unfair," she slurred slamming her glass on her wooden coffee table in front of her.

"Hmm?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, placing his still full shot back on the table. This went unnoticed by her, as she was drunker than he was.

"Life…life is un-unfair." She gestured widely with her hands as she moved to poor more liquor in her glass. He quickly moved and snatched the bottle away from her, despite her protest. "'astle!" she slurred, losing her balance as she reached towards him, sprawling across his form.

And then, she grinned. A wide smirk.

He swallowed, sobering a bit as her lips hovered centimeters from his own and she seemed to as well, but still, neither of them attempted to move away. The air in the room seemed to change as tension filled it.

Her smirk faded.

Then, he leaned forward. Or she did. He wasn't sure.

And they kissed.

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><p>IV.<p>

He stares at the sunset in front of them, looking at it and then her with an amazed expression on his face. She dares to think which one caused it, but she forces to tell herself it's the latter, rather than the formal. Because, if she had caused it, that would be too much to think of. She decides to smile, however, relishing in the peaceful serenity as long as it lasted. She also relishes in Castle's lack of double entendres and suggestive statements and the occasional all too personal questions.

"It's beautiful." She stated, pointing towards the sunset with her beer, sitting on the hood of Castle's rental car, not the department's because, as Castle had claimed, it was 'mortifying' and that he 'would not be seen in it' as it would ruin his so-called 'impeccable' reputation. Castle sat beside her on the hood, not bothering to hide his staring.

He took a sip of his beer. "Beautiful? To what or whom are you referring?" She smacked his arm and rolled his eyes, taking a sip from her own beer bottle.

"Castle," she scolded. "All the beer in the world wouldn't let me allow you to talk about me in such a way."

"Who said it was you I was speaking about?" He smirked at her with a smugness that her body itched to smack away, but somehow, her self-control was able to persist, although the need to strike him never quite left her. But then again, it never did. His smirk widened when he realize her lack of response was due to the internal battle raging in her body, mostly likely, most probably, truthfully, having to do with him.

For a moment, they sat in silence. That was, until she interrupted it as she giggled, a bit maniacally. "What?" He asked, looking at her as if she was quite a few eggs short of a carton. It just sufficed to make her giggle more. Then, gingerly, cautiously, he reached towards her and took her almost full beer from her hand, which caused him no relief. It was only her first beer and at most, she had taken maybe three, _small _sips, which most definitely did not cause her to act like she was. Unless, she was the worst drunk in the history of the world. And he had seen her drink much more than that and not act as nearly as inebriated.

"Years ago, I never would've pictured myself in _Alaska_, of all places, sitting on the hood of an antique _Camero_ with the very _humble_ and _discreet _Richard Castle." She reached over to him, snatching her bottle back from her. She somehow, unbeknownst to him, managed not to spill a drop of it as she did so. Then, she took a large gulp of beer and shook her head.

"You forgot to mention ruggedly handsome." He murmured to her, smiling.

"Ah, yes, I wonder how I possibly forgot that, especially in the most fitting context." She paused briefly, adding a bit of drama to the air. It somehow squeezed in there, although he was unsure of how, what with all the tension floating in the air. "Sarcastic," she finished, struggling to suppress a grin at his priceless expression at her words.

He held a hand to his chest, adapting an expression of hurt onto his face. "You wound me, Detective."

She took another sip of her drink. "In all seriousness," she paused, sobering. The grin fell from her face and she looked from him to the reddish-orange horizon, seemingly unable to look at him. "Thank you, Castle." She sighed. "For _everything_. I'm not sure if I could have done this case without you." She chuckled humorlessly. "I've been thinking and saying that a lot lately. Too much, I believe." She shook her head again and scoffed.

Castle moved closer to her. Their thighs touched, but she paid no attention to this. "Thank _you_, Detective."

"Me?" She looked to him, quickly realizing how close he was and then, she seemed to shrink back, moving her upper torso away from him.

"The unavoidable truth, that I have been trying so long to avoid and failing tremendously, is that you seemed to have brought meaning to my life." He admitted quietly.

And, for one, neither of them knew quite what to say. Instead, Castle just wrapped an arm around Beckett and she just leaned into him as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. And they watched as the sun went behind the mountains in the distance.

Then, surprising her, Castle turned towards her, grasping her chin with one of his hands, moving her head to where they were nose-to-nose. Her breath caught in her throat and even he found himself breathless at this close proximity to her. They stared at each other for a few moments, and then, he turned his head, ever so slightly and captured her mouth with his.

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><p>V.<p>

"Damn it!" He exclaimed, at wit's end. "Why won't you speak to me, with me?" He shouted at her with clenched fists, knuckles white. His fingernails painfully dug into his skin as he struggled not to lose control of his temper, but it seemed as if it was too late.

He struggled not to push her into the wall and forcefully convince her to share his own opinion.

Then, she replied with an infuriatingly unemotional voice, "Talking is much too overrated."

And he lost control.

He could not stand to hear her voice so detached and he had decided that it was worse than hearing her voice break with hurt and heartbreak.

She blinked as his hands were suddenly on her arms, almost painfully, shoving her relentlessly until her back slammed against the wall. He pressed his body against hers so there would be no way of escape for her. Then he moved his hands from her arms, where there were sure to be bruises to positions on the wall beside her head. She could not control herself, and she gasped. "You're killing yourself over _nothing_!" He barely whispered, moving one hand to caress her pale face, looking concernedly at the telltale shadows beneath her eyes which were clear even in the dim lighting of her living room.

"This family deserves to know what happened to their father!" This time, emotion filled her voice and he was taken back to a time not so long ago that ended with the Captain dead and her almost dead with a bullet wound in her chest.

"Beckett!"

"Don't you understand? I might be able to give this to them after twenty years of not knowing! If our positions were reversed, I wish that John Turner's daughter would do the exact same for me, damning the consequences!" She yelled in her face and pushed uselessly on his chest, trying to gain freedom.

"Do you not understand? This does not _just_ affect you! We were there the first time you were like this!" His voice lowered. "You know what happened then! I mean, _I _was there when you were lying in the hospital all those months _comatose_!_ I_ was the one who stayed by your side although the others were sure you were never going to awake. _I _was the one who saw you go through…" he trailed off suddenly and blinked, as if coming back to reality. Then, he took a step back from her and then another.

"Castle?" her voice was unsure when it met his ears. He stared at her arms, knowing that bruises would appear on them shortly.

He breathed heavily, deciding that he might as well tell her the truth, the whole truth, instead of just half. "I love you, Beckett…Kate. I don't know why. I just do, and I find myself falling more in love with you every day _despite _all the things you do that always manage to infuriate me. And it hurts to see you like this. I don't want to see you going through this _hell _again, especially since you didn't even manage to come out even relatively unscathed last time!"

She took a few steps towards them, only to look at him and then stare at the ground. "I-I'm sorry, Castle."

He looked up, surprised at her apology. He nodded. He took the final step that remained between them and tucked a loose strand of long hair behind her ear.

Then, he took a deep breath before leaning forward and kissing her.

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><p>VI.<p>

She looked beautiful in white, gorgeous, breathtaking, ravishing, except she wasn't his to ravish anymore, was she?

He inhaled sharply at this, one of the many noises in the noisy church. From his right, he felt Esposito and Ryan look at him worriedly. Then, they turned away from him and shared a look as if they couldn't believe they were here. But then again, neither could he.

He told himself, when she had first spoken of her engagement, not when he had first found out though, because instead, he was accidentally informed by Ryan and Esposito at one of their lesser moments, that he could do this. And it wouldn't hurt. That he would be strong enough. But he was failing miserably. He winced and turned away from her, unable to look at her as pain pitted within him.

"Castle?" she questioned to him in a small voice, ignoring his reaction. "How do I look?"

He looked back at her, and his mouth widened. And then shut. And widened before shutting again.

He tried to find the words that would do her justice only to come up empty. There were no words. Well, three words of too much consequence echoed in his head.

_Not those words_, he scolded himself vehemently.

She smiled at him widely and his reaction only caused her grin to widen.

"Do you think I look beautiful?" She twirled before him carelessly smiling at him with unusual inhibitions, but after all, it was her wedding day and she was the bride. She could do what she want when she wanted.

He stepped up towards her. "You always look beautiful, Detective, but today, there are no words."

She stepped deeper into the room. He looked around with knitted eyebrows. When had everyone left them alone? And _why_?

A large smile lit her face. Did she smile like that at _him_?

"Do you love me, Castle?" She asks, innocently. Of course, she means for a friend, nothing else.

His skin tingles. "More so than you think," he answered, truthfully.

"I do not doubt that."

He looked up from the spot on the floor he'd been staring at. The smile on her face had faded, but there were signs of it still there with the slightly uplifted corners of her mouth. She swallowed soberly. "I had suspicions. I've often wondered for how long."

"I'm not sure when it started. All I knew was that one day I woke up and I was."

She shook her head, looking into the distance. She almost seemed as if she was looking into the past. She did not look at him as she spoke. "You should have told me. Maybe…" She trailed off, knowing it was useless.

"I know." He wished she hadn't spoken of maybes. He thought of that enough as it was.

"You don't have to walk me down the aisle if it's too hard for you." She told him. He had known this from the beginning, but he had never truly been able to refuse her, especially when she looked at him with those beautiful green eyes of hers.

"Thank you." He murmured. And then he realized it. This was his out, his escape route that she was offering. She would never love him like he loved her and cause him pain, and she knew this. She was trying to help him. He walked up to her and kissed her cheek softly before running his finger over it. Then he strode to the doors of the church and looked back at her. He never should have though, he realized, as he watched her shoulders shake with sobs. He turned back around and strode towards her, kissing her fully on her mouth.

She was the forbidden fruit.

It was inevitable for him to partake in it.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>What do you think? Is it completely awful? I wrote the rest of this at like 2:00 o'clock in the morning last night when a bad case of insomnia hit.


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